


Little Man

by Evergreene



Category: Spartacus Series (TV), Spartacus: Vengeance
Genre: I watch for the height difference, M/M, Nagron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 14:28:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1120946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evergreene/pseuds/Evergreene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just why does Nasir fight with a spear?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Man

**Author's Note:**

> I think the height difference between Agron and Nasir is adorable. I also love that Nasir is the only rebel to fight with a spear. Both of these things got smushed together and resulted in this fic. Enjoy!

Agron's mouth was set in a hard line as he watched the two men who fought before him, taking in every shift of weight and lunge of limb and the way their blades flashed silver under the fierce sunlight that beat down from above.

Fixated upon the battle, he gave only a short nod of greeting as Spartacus came to stand beside him, his own brow damp with sweat from instructing new recruits, and together they watched the fighters come at each other with growing ferocity.

Spartacus leant over to speak in Agron’s ear, not wanting to distract the combatants with his voice. ‘Nasir does well.'

Agron grunted. ‘Not well enough.'

Sure enough, it quickly became obvious that Nasir's opponent, who towered over him by at least a head, had the advantage and was driving Nasir back with a series of slashes that broke through his guard, forcing him to give ground more quickly than his feet could master. Again and again Nair fought back until at last, after suffering one last driving blow, he stumbled and fell, landing on his ass in the dust of the temple courtyard.

At once, shouts and teasing hoots of 'Little man!'erupted from the watching crowds as the victor grinned and passed an arm across his sweating forehead before offering his hand to Nasir, who took it with a grimace, his face reddened by more than just the burning sun as he clambered to his feet.

Agron shook his head. ‘Stupid shit,’ he muttered. ‘He must do better.’

Spartacus raised an eyebrow. ‘You are too harsh. Nasir does well for one so new to battle. Improvement will come with time.’

‘He lacks such a thing,’ Agron replied shortly. ‘As do we all.’

‘Agron-’

Agron turned on him. ‘Nasir fares well against those of equal skill. Even when pitted against one of greater skill, he stands good chance when they stand smaller than he! Yet against one of greater skill and who better him in height?' He swore viciously. 'I would not lose him to fucking reach of arm.’

Spartacus nodded, his eyes on Nasir as he came towards them, his expression frustrated and his shoulders low. 'You are right,' he said simply. He leant close to Agron so that Nasir would not hear his next words. 'And it falls to us to find remedy.'

\------------------

Later that night, Agron tugged on Nasir's arm, pulling him back before he could take off after Lugo. 'Let him go,' he murmured into the soft shell of Nasir's ear, tasting on his own breath the wine that had flowed full and plenty since darkness had fallen. 'Stupid shit is not worth it.'

Nasir subsided unwillingly, only to tense again as Lugo let out a big belly-laugh and yet another shouted taunt before stumbling off into the night with his drink clutched in hand. He took half a step forward.

'If he does not cease his fucking insults-'

Pulling him around, Agron silenced him with a kiss. For a moment Nasir resisted, then his mouth opened and Agron seized advantage, pushing at Nasir hungrily and catching at his lips with bared teeth. Finally, he withdrew only to catch clumsily at Nasir's chin with his fingers, turning him so their gazes met. 'Then your blade shall not be alone at his throat,' he swore, passion and drink making his voice ring loud and causing several heads to turn towards them.

Nasir snorted, a scowl darkening his expression. 'He delivers insult at every opportunity. Always he remarks on breadth of chest or length of gait -'

Distracted by the play of the firelight upon the curve of Nasir's mouth, Agron lowered his head to nip at it, cutting Nasir off. 'I would give aid in setting to rights his opinion of your balls,’ he murmured, feeling the courtyard shift unsteadily beneath his feet. Perhaps, he thought languidly, he had indulged in slightly too much wine that night in attempt to improve his mood after the day's training.

Nasir, for his part, seemed unaffected by drink and Agron watched in fascination as he looked up, revealing, in doing so, the bare length of his neck. It looked, he thought, in need of some attention. About to set himself to the task, he realised that Nasir's mouth was open and he was speaking. He forced himself to concentrate on his words...for the moment, at least.

‘Offer is appreciated,’ Nasir was saying, his tone dry. 'Yet I doubt whether even honoured oath sworn before the gods would have desired effect.' He reached a hand up to clasp a hand against Agron's cheek and Agron pressed into it, enjoying the warmth of Nasir's palm as he continued. 'More so when the mind of he who utters it is fogged with too much wine.'

Agron grinned, welcoming the jibe, and drew Nasir closer. 'Arena is set,' he murmured, his tongue fumbling over the words as he cast a lingering glance towards the fire that flickered so attractively in the middle of the courtyard, lighting it in dancing shadows. 'Let us cast words aside and offer demonstration.'

Nasir elbowed him in the ribs and Agron doubled over in a mixture of pain and mirth, only to find himself suddenly shoved off balance until he hit a wall that appeared out of nowhere behind him. His head thudded against it painfully and a moment later Nasir was upon him, setting one leg firmly between his thighs and pushing him back so the uneven stone ground into his shoulders.

'Is this what you desire?'

Agron swallowed thickly, only to see the fierce lust that was in Nasir's eyes dissolve into merriment. Realising he had been fooled, he let out a laugh and, uncaring for those about them, seized Nasir about the waist and swung him up over his shoulder, barely aware of the murmur of amusement that rippled around the courtyard as he turned to carry Nasir away to their bed.

The next thing he knew, sharp pain exploded in the back of his skull. Automatically, he reached up to it, only to find Nasir writhing out of his grasp and driving a clenched fist into his face.

Agron swore, staggering backwards and feeling a wet warmth spread to drip down his face. Reaching up, he pulled his fingers away from his nose, staring at the red-black blood that coated them.

'Nasir?' he said confusedly.

Yet all he saw of his lover was the furious set of his shoulders as he strode away, the chuckling crowd parting before him.

\----------------------

'What thought took you?'

Agron stared at the ground, refusing answer. Mira, however, seemed to have little need for a reply as she circled him like a cat on the hunt. 'Perhaps reason had fled mind? Thought gone from head? For no man capable of either would act as such.'

He bit down on the retort that came instinctively to his lips. Between the coming of dawn, the painful ache in his head and the memory of a bed that had been absent Nasir's usual warmth, he needed no one to tell him that he had erred.

Mira, however, seemed to be of a different opinion. 'Have you no words?' she said, her voice tight. 'Or are they gone the same way as your fucking mind? To _carry_ him as one would an errant youth, before all gathered there!'

Agron could take no more. ‘My mistake is clear as hand before face,' he hissed at her. 'I do not need to be schooled in it as though a child!'

'A child would have known better,' said a new voice, and Agron turned to see Naevia standing just inside the doorway of the small storeroom where Mira had cornered him. Her expression was controlled, yet he could tell from the determined set of her shoulders that she was of the same opinion as Mira, who was still glaring at him.

'Go to him,' Mira ordered suddenly. 'Offer reparations. Though Nasir is greatly angered, he has heart enough to forgive most fools. He will not refuse such of you.'

Agron inclined his head and turned to stalk out of the room. As he passed Naevia, however, her quiet words sounded in his ear. 'Nasir works hard to earn respect amongst all here. Deny him of it and his will not be the only fist that finds your face.'

He turned to look at her. Her face was even but her eyes were hard as bone and suddenly he realised what Crixus had always seen in the woman standing before him.

He swallowed, bowed his head and left, determined to find Nasir before the morning sun had risen high.

\------------------

The early afternoon sun beat down on Agron as he stood alone in the middle of the courtyard, his shoulders reddened from long hours spent searching for Nasir in the day's full heat. With a sigh, he ran his fingers through his sweaty hair so that it stood up in spikes on top of his head and gazed around himself. Nasir had seemingly vanished. Every person about camp seemed to have been able to tell him where he had been, but never where he was.

His brow furrowing as he scoured the courtyard, Agron did not see the dark head of hair bobbing beneath just beneath his line of sight until a strong hand pushed him in the middle of his chest. Letting out a short huff as he started back, he looked down to see Nasir standing stormy-eyed before him.

He did his best not to let his surprise show. 'I have looked for you since daybreak.'

'So I have heard.'

Agron frowned. Nasir did not seem in the mood for pleasantries. He decided to try the most direct path.

'I meant no offence this past night.'

Nasir's expression remained as stone.

'The drink-'

He stopped as Nasir's scowl darkened. He decided to try another tactic. Leaning down, he crooked a finger under Nasir's chin, then offered him a slightly silly grin. 'Apologies?'

Slowly, the corner of Nasir's mouth twitched. Agron's hope rose and he leant forward, pressing his forehead against Nasir's own. 'Truly, apologies,' he murmured, more seriously.

Finally, Nasir's face relaxed and he shook his head fondly before leaning into Agron's caress.

'Foolish man,' he murmured.  

Agron grinned, then looped his arm about Nasir’s neck and pulled him close. Together they stood there, Agron resting half his weight upon shoulders broader than they had been only weeks past as Nasir leant back against him, his head nestled in the crook of Agron's shoulder.

‘You will use him as fucking table next!’

Agron twisted round at Donar’s shout. Beneath his arm, Nasir went tense. Together, they looked to see Donar standing some distance away alongside Nemetes and Lugo, both of whom were laughing.

‘Already you lean half your weight upon him,' Nemetes called, his tongue fumbling over the still-foreign words.

'Though you stand bent almost double in fucking attempt!' Donar rejoined, bringing about another roar of laughter.

Slowly, Nasir shifted under him. Deliberately, he lifted Agron's arm off of his shoulder then turned and walked away, his shoulders as rigid as they had been the night before.

Left alone in the middle of the courtyard, Agron watched him go. Another roar of laughter caught his attention and he turned towards the trio of Donar, Nemetes and Lugo, all of whom had become so lost in their mirth that they were leaning on one other  for support.

Like a wolf on the hunt, Agron stalked towards them. When he was close enough, he reached out and coiled his fingers in the leather cord Donar wore about his neck, jerking him close enough to smell his sweat.

‘You will make fucking payment for that,’ he hissed, then pushed him away, already reaching for his next victim. Nemetes and Lugo however, had retreated a safe distance to the other side of the courtyard, far out of his grasp.

Sending them a glare that promised revenge, Agron turned to search for the fast-retreating form of Nasir, who had already almost disappeared already amongst those of greater height.

Muttering a curse, he strode off in fast pursuit, ignoring the newest roar of laughter that followed him.

\------------------

Hours later, he was still searching for Nasir, despite his best efforts to seek help from the other rebels. Crixus had merely informed him that he trailed about after Nasir like a lovesick pup. Mira had glared at him before walking away, and Saxa had shoved him in the chest as soon as he had opened his mouth to speak to her.

Losing hope, he finally trailed into Spartacus' quarters. After a single look at him, Spartacus shook his head and left his maps to lead him towards a narrow corridor with a small storeroom at the end of it. The curtain across the doorway was pulled firmly across.

With a grateful nod of thanks, Agron clapped a hand on Spartacus' back and, gathering his nerves, headed for the storeroom, pushing the curtain open without pausing.

Nasir was indeed inside, though the sight of him nearly made Agron want to hit his head repeatedly upon the wall. Up on his toes, Nasir was standing on a wooden crate that had been positioned carefully on its end to better allow him sufficient height to reach the dried herbs that hung from the ceiling, just out of his reach.  

Deciding he might as well get it over with, Agron took a deep breath. 'Nasir?'

Nasir swung round to face him, his face flushed from his efforts. The sudden movement, however, made him lose his precarious balance and he toppled from his perch to land in Agron's arms.

They stared at each other, frozen, Nasir hanging mere inches from the floor and Agron with his arms tight about Nasir's legs and chest. Then, moving slowly, Agron set Nasir carefully on his feet and backed away, doing his best to control the smirk that was tugging insistently at his lips.

On the other side of the room, Nasir took his time straightening his clothing. Finally, he ran a hand over his long hair and turned to look up at Agron.

'Oh, fuck the gods,' he muttered. He shook his head and Agron was surprised to see the beginnings of a rueful smile developing on his face.

'Nasir?' he said cautiously, daring to step forward.

'All my life, I have wished for greater height,' said Nasir regretfully. He let out a short, self-deprecating laugh. 'Since I was but a child. Yet it has always eluded me.'

Gently, Agron reached out and crooked a finger beneath Nasir's chin. 'It is fortunate, then,' he informed him with all the seriousness he could muster, 'that I have height enough for the both of us.'

Nasir grinned up at him, his eyes bright, and turned his cheek into Agron's hand, pressing  a kiss into his palm. Agron returned it, lifting Nasir's hand to his lips and brushing his lips against it as he drew Nasir closer so they were pressed against each other.

A soft cough, however, caused them both to look up. Spartacus was there, outlined in the doorway and clearly fighting back a smile as he watched them.

Stepping hurriedly back from Agron, Nasir cleared his throat awkwardly. Agron, however,  eyed Spartacus darkly.

Do you desire something of us?'

Spartacus rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, having the grace to look embarrassed. 'You remember,' he started, 'how we spoke of Nasir needing greater reach in battle? Well, weapon has come to mind that will give him such.'

\-------------------

It was hours later when, sprawled against the inside wall of the temple, Agron raised his cup high, uncaring of the wine that sloshed over the side as he toasted the man beside him.

'To defeat!'

Spartacus echoed his toast, clanking his own cup against Agron's so that the sound rang through the night. 'May it ever continue!'

A black shadow appeared in front of them and together they looked up to see the large bulk of Crixus outlined against the darkness.

Crixus let out a short laugh as he stared down upon them. 'Do my eyes deceive me?' he demanded. 'Or does the great Spartacus take to drink this night?'

Agron clapped a heavy hand against Spartacus' chest. ‘Your eyes speak true.'

Crixus crouched down before them with a shake of his head. ‘And what momentous event has caused such a thing to occur?'

Spartacus swirled the wine around in his cup. 'It is Nasir.'

Crixus raised a dark brow. ‘Agron's boy?’ His mouth quirked in sudden humour. 'Is the little man's pride restored then after Agron carried him away last night?'  

Struggling upright, Agron gestured Crixus forwards so that his mouth was next to his ear. When Crixus was close enough, he spoke loudly. ‘Do not call him that.'

Crixus drew back sharply, his amusement replaced by annoyance. 'He stands small enough to own the title. Give reason why I should not!'

'He will stab you in the face.'

Crixus snorted. 'He could not reach so high.'

Spartacus shook his head heavily and raised a hand in warning. 'Do not make such claim, Crixus. Today he brought me low enough when handed a simple spear with which to fight.'

Crixus was silent a moment. 'Your boy brought the bringer of rain to his knees?’ he said finally, turning back to Agron in disbelief.

‘To his fucking ass!’ Agron declared. 'Twice!'

'You bear false tongue.'

Agron jabbed a finger at him. 'You would not say such had you the courage to face him yourself.'

'I do not lack courage,' Crixus retorted, drawing himself to his feet.

Agron glared at him. 'Then go! Fight Nasir! And you will eat fucking words!'

\-------------------

It was not long before Crixus returned, beads of sweat gathered across his forehead and his heaving chest bearing a long welt.

‘Well?’ Agron demanded. 'How did you fare?'

‘I do not wish to speak of it.’

Silently, Spartacus offered the remainder of his drink to Crixus. Just as silently, Crixus took it and slumped down next to them, his legs slung out before him.

'For a little man,' he said finally, leaning his head back against the stone wall, 'he holds some skill with a spear.’

As Spartacus snorted, Agron smirked, finally satisfied that he would not lose Nasir to anything to do with the reach of his arm.

END


End file.
